


to the beginning

by masamune11



Series: intersecting paths [4]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, Ghosts, Heavy Theory, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She remembered how that invisible power filled her with the feeling of being saved, an unknown (<i>mechanicalsmug<b>divine</b></i>) voice suddenly rang within her with a question:</p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>    <b>“Do you wish to stay with him?"</b><br/></p>
</div><hr/><p>The subsequent tales of Claudia Weismann fulfilling her job as the Ferrywoman.</p><p>
  <i>[ Background story that interlinks with previous tales, written through Claudia's side. ]</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. to be with him

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Honestly, I should have been writing the other pieces that should serve as the continuation of 365 days. But Claudia had been swirling around my head lately, and I cannot help writing this.
> 
> ~~Also there's the fact that I haven't linked the stories so far to the myth (oops?).~~
> 
> A-anyway, please enjoy.
> 
> WARNING: this fic contains liberal interpretation of characters that have yet to appear in the media AND minor characters which have scarce official information. Also this fic will not make sense if you don't read the previous fics in this fic-series. ...Also liberal use of made-up world-mechanic theory.
> 
> Un-beta'ed. My apologies for any typos. Thank.

Her fate ended and started by the hand of her brother. This truth, she learned of it the hard way.

Her death was not something to be considered heroic; she was trying to save her brother from a certain demise and lost her life in the process. If anything, she was just a sister trying to save the only relative she had from her life—the only person whose trembling frame she had protected ever since their parents died. He was her life, and _damn her if he was going to die on her watch_.

There were many things that she remembered moments before her death, really. She moved to push her brother away, Addie’s eyes widening at her force, the building collapsing around her, _unimaginable pain attacking every part of her nerves_ , the shock, and then the sound of rubbles pressing down onto her frail body, her body being pulled out by her brother’s frantic eyes, Addie’s silver eyes glowing like the purest silver, and an expression lost in denial and grief.

She couldn’t stand the image of her stricken brother, so Claudia reached out despite every part of her hand muscle failing ( _ithurtsithurts **ithurts**_ ). The edge of her fingers tried to push the side of his lips, as if trying to make him smile. Addie’s hand reached out to hers—warm hand that seemed so faraway as his face slowly dimmed to black.

“...you look better smiling, Addie…” from the blurry image that seemed to dissolve into the abyss, Claudia could make out the grief etching his face… and the drops of tears that fell on her cheeks. Why was he still not smiling? She wanted to see him smile at this moment… before her vision failed forever. "…smile for me, please…?"

Addie did not heed her words, his pained look being the last image being etched in her memories, as the world around her fell to silence of black. That was the moment when her life ended—her existence being snuffed out from life’s plate...

...until she realised, floating in that endless black expanse, that _she could still think—_ that she _existed_ even beyond the realm of the living. Hence, the first thing that she did was to open her eyes, her form glowing with light surprised her more than it should. There was nothing surrounding herself—no one to talk to, no things to touch, no texture to feel over, _nothing except for her regretful thoughts to keep her company_.

So she wailed and screeched, over the people she had come to meet, the outcome which she had to endure ( _she died, damn it. Shouldn’t she be passing on now? Why was she here? For what purpose had she been stranded on this expanse of nothingness?_ ), and the grief that stuck with his fine face as she closed the last chapter of her life. Some times, she would stop crying altogether, her thoughts eventually trailing into unintelligible self-pity. Other times, Claudia would stare at the blank expanse vacantly as if waiting for someone to save her, waves of silver nauseously stayed in her mind in exchange of her usual thoughts of regret. There had been no person entering this eerie place, and the thought only sent her to the start: crying, wailing, _anything that could make her feel better_.

She did know exactly the discerning moment when _something shifted_ , a power that pierced through that black expanse even though her senses were not able to perceive it.

She remembered how that invisible power filled her with the feeling of _being saved,_ an unknown ( _mechanicalsmug **divine**_ )voice suddenly ringing within her with a question:

**_“Do you wish to stay with him?"_ **

Claudia had no idea how to answer such vague question, not when she had herself almost deprived of sanity. But as soon as the voice quietened down, she was quickly drowned with images of Addie—his smiles in his teenage years, his frown whens he encountered difficult problems as obstacles lying on his path, his concerned expression when he found out that she had a bad case of cold, and then… his stricken face her life trickled out from her frame.

Addie; the voice meant _him_. “Yes!” she rasped frantically, “I will give anything to be with him, to keep that smile smile. Please! Can you do something?!” _I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be alone, I want to see_ Addie.

The streams of images rushing through her stopped completely at her declaration, the last vestige of Adolf K. Weismann’s smile being obscured into the darkness, before that same voice rang again:

**_“Then accept the task that We give you and be recompensed."_ **

Another stream of imaged rushed through her mind, which, this time, did not bear any images of her beloved sibling. There were only figures whom she did not recognise, people clad in various colours from gold to _clear_ , some with clear face images (a dark-haired man with glass lying among the rubbles due to a disaster of his own making, a red-haired man with limbs open as he subsequently accepted his fate, a long-haired man gazing wistfully at the edge of the horizon, a brown-haired man dying peacefully on his bed, another old man clad in gold dying on his deathbed with his most precious standing by his side, and other people whom she never recognised), while others a shadow without _colour._ But the one fact that threw her out of the loop was this: she was always there before their death, no matter in what manner she decided to appear.

When the images stopped, Claudia went still. The voice remained quiet, true, but she could easily feel the rumble beneath such tense silence. It was waiting for her answer, but Claudia had too many things on her mind to actually give the appropriate one. Had the voice ask her to be there when those people’s lives came to an end? Was that the reason?

“I… I don’t understand,” she muttered to herself. The rumble shifted. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to be there when their end came? Also I... I can meet Addie with this, can I not?"

Another beat of silence, and the voice spoke this:

**“Be our ferrywoman. Be their guidance. Be the representation of their power."**

She was sudenly overwhelmed by an outside pressure and everything she saw was _silver_ — 

(—like Addie’s beautiful eyes, like her own…)

—and then she knew what to do, who to meet, where to be at particular moment, and  _how to proceed._  Those silver light still lighted her senses, and suddenly, she knew that she would have to play her part as the woman who shall siphon away the souls of Kings into their eternal paradise.

Later, in a moment, she knew that _she had been exchanging words with the Slate itself and how they are one of the forces pivoting the ways of the world._

Before she knew it, Claudia was already on her knees and said, “I accept."

That was the first of her many mistakes in her afterlife.

(She realised later that among the people whom she had to deliver, Adolf K. Weismann was not among them. His lack of presence thereof was a clear message that the man’s soul will forever be unreachable from her grasp—that no matter how she tried, _she will never get the honour to ferry his soul._

Adolf K. Weismann was invulnerable to anything, after all, just as the Slate preordained.)

* * *

She got what she wanted.

When the Slate gave her the _power_ —the means to intrude into the living world and leave that void of black behind, a shard of the Slate’s power to enter dominions at her own whims, similar to the transformation quality that a green aura possessed—the first thing she did was to learn how the world had changed after the war. From there, she learned of the flying blimp patrolling around the world, and also the rumours being spread in Shizume City of a legendary King said to inhabit that place. So she intruded into Himmelreich blimp to confirm for herself. Claudia was not that surprised to see his brother, all tall and elegant, longingly gazing out at the sky before him. What made her heart ache, however, was the fact that her Addie saw through her, as if she was invisible to him.

What made her mourn even further was how devoid those silver eyes were of joy; that there was no purgatory for her worse than this: being able to see him yet being able to do nothing to _fix_ this.

(She refrained from lashing out at the Slate. This was the deal she brought herself into; she got what she bargained. If only she requested for more then… maybe things would have turned out different.)


	2. blue, colourless, and red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miwa Ichigen, despite his awkward position, flashed her a thankful smile before the last of his life faded away. Claudia reached for the edge of his tethering life, spindling it like a skilled weaver until what stayed in her hand was a glowing yarn made of light—of the life that Miwa Ichigen used to venture through this world. She held it close to her heart, her whisper an unbreakable promise.
> 
> “I will look after him in your place, Ichigen-san."
> 
>   _For a future where Addie can feel joy again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, un-beta'ed.
> 
> Please enjoy.

The first time she felt herself changing was when she ferried the soul of the First Blue King. He was her second assignment (right after she ferried Genji Kagutsu’s fiery soul as quickly as possible, the jerk he was), the poor soul being too wrought down by his guilt for failing to execute his objective in time. When they met for the first time, Jin Habari was deeply engulfed with a crimson flame that clearly did not belong to him—a definite sign that the Red King’s hold over him was still there even after Genji Kagutsu passed on to the other side.

(When someone was chosen by The Slate, the connection lingered even until death. It latched on, marked said someone as though they were _their_ property. The same thing happened to her beloved brother and herself, but Claudia was still too naïve to understand the scope of the Slate’s machination back then—the burden which were put on the shoulders of those who were given title  _Kings_.)

She would have pitied him if Jin Habari did not make any attempt to attack her with his faux red aura. Among their exchange of blows, she noticed how those sharp eyes had turned dull and colourless, and she partly wondered if Jin stayed in this place long enough for the guilt to eat him raw. The red aura which Genji Kagutsu had unconsciously latched on him before his death most likely furthered his guilt, pushing him to the edge of depression.

(She would have ended up being like him if the Slate did not interfere.)

They engaged in a small battle, in which the Ferrywoman easily overpowering the former Blue King with her beams. In the end, the latter was forced to kneel on his place, his hold body being supported by her javelin-like silver aura. Jin was still frantic, trying to get out of her weapon’s hold even if it was futile, and then stilled completely as he looked at her. She noticed no fear on those eyes, but what he had to say afterwards shook her core. “…a machine like you will never understand."

It felt like an offence, really, but then she recalled that each beam that she threw at him was nothing more than a scream of _justice, equality, order_ —

(—of the things that were not _Addie_ , _of those which were not drivers behind her action_. At that moment, she was _the Slate_ : the judge, jury, and executioner of their machination.)

—she dropped to her knees, her silver eyes held his gaze as she closed the gap between them. Her hands slowly wrapped around his stilled frame and the former Blue King flinched under her cold touch. She was there when Zenjou Goki stroke him down, his last whisper of regret being uttered soundlessly into the wind, the last image being engraved to his mind being the empty expanse of a crater which took after the name of his dead _friend_. She witnessed them all—so she understood. “…No. I understand perfectly. You want to follow that person instead of being imprisoned here, to hit him for the slack he dropped on you, to ask his forgiveness for failing to follow his request."

The form in her arms trembled. "I know this, Habari-san. I know that it is your only wish. Let me… let me help you fulfil it, alright? I can bring you to Kagutsu-san, then you can convey your feelings to him."

It happened in an instant, how Jin’s faux red aura dissipated completely as if it was never there. Claudia called back her power next as she gently pulled him to stand on his own. Jin wobbly stood on his feet, chuckling weakly as he brushed away some of his hair to get better view of the woman who had kicked his butt. “…how shall I call the woman who will guide me there?"

A small smile; this question, Claudia can certainly answer proudly now, “You can call me Claudia. I shall be your guide until you meet Kagutsu-san at the end of your journey."

(Even if her change of attitude distraught her, this act of compassion was proof enough that she could never lose herself completely—not when she could still nurture and guide lost people in this black expanse.)

* * *

Her next charge afterwards was Miwa Ichigen, the First Colourless King.

Unlike her previous task, she decided to pick up the soul of this King herself instead of waiting for him in the void, thinking that if she could deliver the soul directly, she would smoothen the whole process. That… and the Slate seemed to approve behind her back. Therefore, in the middle of the night, the Ferrywoman casually dropped inside his sleeping chamber—a simple room filled with Japanese traditional appliances and antiques.

The room spoke much of Miwa Ichigen as a person. _Tradition. Peace. Status quo._

“Ah, you’re here."

She had learnt much to not turn at such general gesture. For all she knew, the King might have asked for his charge’s attention. But there was no little black-haired boy around to call upon, which meant the impossible. So Claudia turned at the sliding door, where said Colourless King sat on the wooden floor just outside his room. Pale moonlight illuminated his worn-out frame, and yet the King seemed to glow with joy… as if her coming was something that he had anticipated all his life.

She was both surprised and bemused, “…you can see me?"

Laughter was not something she expected out of this man, “yes, I can see you just fine… miss Ferrrywoman."

No one should have known that she was the Ferrywoman—an untouchable entity existing in the realm of souls, whose existence should only be known to those who had experienced death. Being the Colourless King will not grant him that truth… will it?

“I must say, I’m quite surprised that you know me at first glance,” she eventually replied and walked to him, her casual lab coat from the time of her death waving in non-existent wind. “Has the Slate informed you of my coming?"

“In a way,” he answered cryptically… and somehow, it grated her non-existent nerves. “Come sit with me and make yourself comfortable. I would have made some tea for you but as you can see… just sitting here already takes much out of me."

At this, she couldn’t help but sympathise at his gesture of hospitality. Her silver eyes glinting with sympathy as she joined sitting next to him, her gaze drifting out to the green backyard of his home. Just being there reminded her of her long-passed family, Miwa Ichigen’s presence resembling that of her father’s. 

(If she put it that way, she missed her family.)

“You don’t have to trouble yourself, Ichigen-san. Spirits like me cannot do what living beings can,” she lightly replied. She could see the stars on the sky; to think that she would have to take his life on this lovely night, the cries which will fill in the walls of this traditional residence when his small charge found out that his father _passed away_ …

“For a spirit, you seem to express emotion like any other person would, miss Ferrywoman,” he chuckled. Maybe he noticed her reluctance in carrying her task? “It makes me wonder if you were a human before becoming one."

 _Bullseye._  “Whatever makes you think that I was one?” she retorted softly, but her thoughts were quickly brought to halt when the King’s form failed to support himself, his body swaying to her side. In reflex, she tried to catch him, only to remember that she was just an _immaterial spirit_ ; Miwa Ichigen’s body harshly fell on the cold wooden floor.

(She was not human anymore. How come a being—a marionette—whose strings were tied to the wiles of the world can still be human?)

“…I’m sorry, Ichigen-san, but your time is almost up,” she whispered, her eyes glowing with power despite the sadness staining its glints, “…do you have any last words… or perhaps wishes?"

Laughter. She wondered what was so funny about all this, him trying to talk despite what little life he had. “…can you tell me… whether Kuroh find the one for him in the end?"

It was a stupid question. Miwa Ichigen was capable to see such conclusion by himself. His clairvoyance ability was not limited to the extent of his own life, after all. Yet perhaps a father needed reassurance for the final time, so Claudia sighed in wonder, the power behind her whispering of the things that Kuroh Yatogami would become—

—and the silver streaks that came along with him, a face brightened with smile, so filled with joy compared to the last time she saw _him, her Addie._ Kuroh Yatogami. Adolf K. Weismann. _Yashiro Isana._

She covered her lips, her eyes darted at the direction of the young man sleeping at the other room—the young man who would become the catalyst of her brother’s joy since her death. _His salvation_.

“…yes, Ichigen-san. He will. This outcome, I can promise you."

Miwa Ichigen, despite his awkward position, flashed her a thankful smile before the last of his life faded away. Claudia reached for the edge of his tethering life, spindling it like a skilled weaver until what stayed in her hand was a glowing yarn made of light—of the life that Miwa Ichigen used to venture through this world. She held it close to her heart, her whisper an unbreakable promise.

“I will look after him in your place, Ichigen-san."

_For a future where Addie can feel joy again._

* * *

She was quite surprised to find the mission after dealing with Ichigen Miwa was to be ferrying someone else who was not a _King_.

Tatara Totsuka was the vassal of Mikoto Suoh, the Second Red King. She never paid any special attention to his life, only knowing that he had a significant impact to his King’s life. Not only that, the lack of his presence during one of HOMRA’s physical confrontation was enough for him to be overlooked, even by her standard (she did keep up with the comings-and-goings of the Kings and its clans).

Seeing how the black void did not seem to break his spirit at all earned him a new perspective on her notes… especially how he only smiled at her as though he _knew she was going to come_.

“Aaa, I never thought that a person would come here, of all places,” he grinned ear-to-ear, as if he was trying to infect the black void that had swallowed its dwellers' sanity. She couldn’t help but let out a small smile, his own infecting her easily like a flu, and closed the distance between them.

“We’ve never met before, but you don’t seem surprised to see me. Aren’t you wary of strangers in dark corridors, showing up from eerie silver doors?” 

The young man shook his head as another smile, this time more wistful than his previous, “King… no, the red flame within me says that you are alright."

The comment in itself made her confused. First and foremost, only souls of the Kings went into the Limbo—this black expanse—before crossing over to the other side. And even that, those Kings are the ones who was unfortunately had close relationship with other King—unfortunate enough for the living (dead King, in case of Jin Habari, she thought) to bend the will of the Slate and bound them in this place. Special cases like herself happened once in a while—with a good reason. The Silver King was the First King of all, after all. Naturally, possessing aura with the strongest connection to the Slate, Addie's aura-latching effect on her would be more likely to put her in deviation.

The point remained that those who were stranded here were Kings, trapped in this place because of another’s influence. Tatara was certainly not a King, which led to another conclusion that she did not like one bit.

_A special case._

“That red flame… I can sense it within you. It is Mikoto Suoh’s red aura, isn’t it?” she asked, her silver eyes glinting hopefully that what she said was true. But Tatara’s forlorn smile rebuked her previous words, and suddenly Claudia had the urge to scream at the Slate for shrouding this truth from here.

“…no, Claudia-san. It… it’s not King’s. As the Ferrywoman, you do understand what this means… right?"

She knew too well what he meant.  _You have no idea what kind of afterlife you’ve traded over for this job, the loneliness it entails, the feeling of losing yourself as you feel their power sipping beneath your core and slowly chipping your personality_ , she wanted to scream that at him—that Tatara was making a big mistake. But the die had been cast off, the players set, and Claudia now had a colleague to tutor and teach. So she sighed inwardly, her right hand extended.

“…I don’t know what kind of deal you ended up having with the Slate but… welcome aboard, Tatara Totsuka-san, the Ferryman." 


	3. gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claudia wondered how they turned out like this: she, a prisoner of power whose afterlife was sacrificed for an eternal dream; her brother, a coward who refused his destiny and kept on running, and; the lieutenant, a hero who played around with fates of other people despite his noble intention.
> 
> * * *
>
>>   
>  **"Three friends go into battle, one is captured, one flies away, the one that is left, becomes a hero."**   
>  _as quoted from Genesis Rhapsodos, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII_   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Worklife has been disaster. Hopefully it doesn't affect the quality of my writing at all ~~not that there is quality in this piece to begin with~~.
> 
> Unbeta'ed. If you feel that some of the Deutsch below inappropriate/weird, feel free to point it out to me. Unfortunately my skill is just that of a A1 student so... yeah.
> 
> Please enjoy.

Sometimes she looked at Mikoto Suoh and wondered whether Red Kings were _idiots by nature._

The trails of destruction that he left on his rampage was a definite sign that HOMRA was out for the blood of Tatara’s murderer. Each hit that they landed to gain information, each marble that young lady used to distill some truths, each flame the Red King burned, were a violent reminder that HOMRA will bite back should their feathers are ruffled, even if commoners must suffer for it. She supposed that it was part of their pride, that an eye must be paid by another.

To top it all, Tatara watched how his death became the crucible which drove his dear family to crumble under the strain of their missing heart. He saw each and every act of vengeance being done in his name, Mikoto’s two-sided flame quickly burning his life away. Totsuka could sense how his life trickled under the weight of its usage, his slouched shoulder being a sign of dejection towards the circumstance as a whole.

He was stuck to see this through, the poor man.

“You don’t have to stay and keep watch on the living world for now, Totsuka-san,” she offered, some weeks after his admission as the Slate’s Ferryman. They were hovering near the red Sword of Damocles, red aura dancing around them dangerously. "We can switch for a while, until things settle down."

Facing the woman for a moment, Tatara steeled his gaze and managed a weak smile, "it's alright, Claudia-san. Watching the conclusion of this... mess has been one of the deal that the Slate asked me. I need to do this."

She would have pitied him further if not for his steeled resolution.

“Ah, the Blue Clan has arrived,” he commented. He was right; even Claudia can sense the silent shift of power around them, red clashing invisibly against blue at the moment Reishi Munakata made his appearance. While she can sense the presence of each King through the connection that bond him/her with the Slate, hence granting her the knowledge of their identity, it felt different to be exposed to their power firsthand.

Between the two of them, Claudia could easily tell the difference between both Kings: Mikoto, inspiring his followers through the fiery bonds that they share as well as easily embracing the freedom to act and be however you want; Reishi, being the perfect example to look up to for his subordinates as well as the dependable leader who would protect them through any means necessary.

They were different kind of Kings compared to their predecessors.

(Genji Kagutsu was a literal ball of flame on the edge of The River, waiting patiently for his friend to step forward, to reach for the hand that had forgiven his friend even after death. Jin Habari—Genji’s friend despite their counter disposition, _always_ —turned so still that she thought he was dying twice when he saw the Red King’s face, his eyes flashing with emotion which she cannot decipher. Promises were kept, punches were hit, and, eventually, they boarded their ferry-to-the-afterlife together.

As an observer, she was just glad that their business was concluded well.)

As both Kings were about to face off against each other, the Ferrywoman was already musing on who the victor would be. She was quite surprised, however, when the Red King simply handed himself over to SCEPTER 4 without clear resistance, his followers gawking at the sudden turn of event. Reishi then herded Mikoto away from his flock, the former receiving not much resistance from the latter’s subordinates as he instructed them to ‘walk away peacefully’. HOMRA's members begrudgingly withdrew under their King's order, some trying to restrain themselves from strangling the nearest Blue Clan members. 

"Of all things, I never expect that to happen,” Claudia mused, and then casually shifted to her partner’s side. But Tatara’s silence only furthered her curiosity, so she chose to look at him more throughly. 

There was an unreadable expression crossing the man's face, and Claudia wondered if that was how hers was whenever the Slate hijacked her will. Then he blinked once, his soft brown eyes fixed on his King longingly perhaps in knowing that there was never a chance for him to come back, even when he had the power, but not the authority, to do so. Claudia had a hunch that there was more buried within that weird gaze, but she decided not to comment nor press; for all she knew, both of them had not reach that point where they could easily exchange sob stories. If Tatara would tell her, it'll be on his terms.

The sword next to them vanished from sight, leaving them alone in the area. The edge of her thought buzzed, a blatant notification from the Slate that they had new orders to be carried. She was sure that her partner got it too, so she turned at him. "Shall we move on to our next assignment? It will be a good to practice your power, I believe."

Tatara looked at her, his uncertainty seemingly drained out of his gaze by the power sponsoring their existence for a moment before being replaced by something akin to pride. The next thing she knew, he was summoning a door made of red flame, similar to her silver. He flashed her a cocky smirk, "ladies first?"

She let out a snort, one of amusement that rang much like her old self', "cheeky boy."

* * *

She dropped by Daikaku's territory once in a while, especially when her past tackled her down with full force. Usually that happened when she decided to take her brother's attention, though she knew that it was to no avail. In the end, she would dejectedly summon one of her many doors and walked into where the Slate lied. It pulsed with power, that alien (horrible) article, and enclosed her with a sense of duty as well as safety—of surety and order ( _that preached chaos_ ). Claudia would just lie on he center of the Slate, unaware to her surroundings.

Only once that the home owner actually caught her sleeping there.

(Unlike the on-going rumours amongst USAGI members, the Gold King never stayed in the room where he kept the Slate for too long. He would visit once or twice, looking after the Slate as if to affirm that it was _his_ , when he knew not that it had always been the other way around. 

The Slate owned those whom they chose; it bound his fate, like how it did her.

Claudia wondered how they turned out like this: she, a prisoner of power whose afterlife was sacrificed for an eternal dream; her brother, a coward who refused his destiny and kept on running, and; the lieutenant, a hero who played around with fates of other people despite his noble intention.)

She remembered opening her eyes and finding the aging form of Daikaku Kokujouji hovering above her, jaded brown eyes expecting something different in his visit. Yet she knew well that he was not seeing her, but rather the stone she had bound her life and death to. She was so ready to believe in that little fact, until the man literally _fell on his knees_ , a broken whisper escaping his lips held her still in place: "you cannot be here... you are _gone_."

The Gold King uttered that last world with such finality that, for a moment, she felt her world stopped revolving. Realisation quickly dawned on those silver eyes for the first time that another living King, since the first Colourless one, had come to notice her existence.

The first thing then was to summon one of her silver doors just below where she lied, letting the Slate's will whisk her away from that place with a fall. Daikaku's dark eyes shone with surprise, before her power wiped out everything within her sight. Another moment after, she was back within that black expanse, feeling alone, rattled, and, most of all, _vulnerable_.

She never set foot inside that building afterwards.

(Tatara, the perceptive man he was, noticed how she would shift uncomfortably when they were patrolling together around said building and asked her. He knew for a fact that near proximity with the Slate brought more benefits than drawbacks, so he couldn't fathom her sudden uneasiness around said building. Claudia told him not to worry—a  final signal for him to leave the matter alone, to which the Ferryman complied. If he cannot even share the reason behind his longing, it was within her right to keep her insecurity for herself. The gesture could be seen as petty, but the Ferrywoman couldn't care less.

She was too crossed to tell him anyway, especially after realising that _the Slate was mocking her, sending her a message that_ They _can easily reveal her to anyone_ _else_ **, but not Addie.** Only because she never asked.

She had no more soul to trade for such wish.)

* * *

To her, Mikoto's embers felt like an ardent campfire compared to his predecessor. Even though his fire generated devastating effects on his surroundings, Mikoto's flame was still controlled. While he still made significant collateral damages whenever he went on rampage, there weren't any lives lost. Compared to Genji Kagutsu's 'violence', Mikoto Suoh's was _child's play_ —which made the battle scene before her even more worrying.

Red and blue danced wildly for several moments longer, with the Red King’s aura going more and more unstable with each ignited spark. It seemed they only needed that short pause for the wheel of fate started turning again--with a flash of silver.

Yashiro Isana's—Addie's, he will always be Addie for her even when his real body had withered, his younger vessel a means to continue existing in this living world—appearance took her by surprise, moreso how his silver wavered under the pressure of colourless. Red suddenly burst like it never had been, Blue frantically trying to quell the rage of that red but _to_ _no_ _avail_ _._

Then the silver was gone, scattered by the flames that were meant to obliterate the colourless King instead.

Claudia suddenly felt empty.

Or rather, whatever was left of Claudia Weismann from the Ferrywoman disappeared, as sure as how the silver embers of Yashiro's life died. After all, the moment Adolf K. Weismann had her bounded by his fate though unconsciously, it was only fair to have the last of his remnants die along with him when his life arrived at the end of the line.

* * *

When she came to be, she was back in that still world enwrapped within the white cocoon of emptiness. She could not tell where her end began, nor where her beginning ended. All she knew was that she was Claudia. But her name did not evoke memories of her life—of what she should have been doing, what she had done, _who she was_. The idea was supposed to scare her, but the infinite white in her mind offered a comfort which she can not relinquished.

In that empty white, she suddenly traced the ripples of another’s thoughts, intruding within hers. A voice. Suddenly, her world began anew with a simple question: “ _Kannst du mich hören?_ _Antworte mir, bitte!_ 1"

It was a man’s voice, sounding like a deep bell being rung underwater. His voice was unfamiliar at first, until pieces of her minds fell into place to connect and reconcile with its characteristics. This man’s german possessed non-native touch, with bits of Japanese edges around his wording. The composition, his voice… everything about them reminded her much of a certain lieutenant—

—her thoughts both stopped and thundered at the same time as memories suddenly overflowed into her frame. The whiteness of her mind was filled and poured at—each scene of her life being played out, each battles and life taken being displayed in random, each faces she learnt being remembered. She screamed when her being remembered of those emotional moments in her life which overrode the safety of her white world, but  _there was no voice; she cannot make her voice to_ work. She wanted to cry, to scream _stop this I don’t want this_ , but then _she saw Addie’s dejected face, Addie’s remorseful look, Addie’s pleading face_ —

(" _Verlass mich nicht, meine geliebte Schwester..._ 2" she heard him plead over and over, his broken voice lulling her to eternal slumber, " _verlass mich nicht, bitte..._ ") _  
_

“ _Hör auf, hör auf—! Ich möchte mehr davon nicht sehen—!_ 3” She sobbed, her words finally came into existence along with heartache and _tears_. The white expanse slowly reverted to gold, wood, _red—_ streams of multi-color finally came into place. The golden room blinded her vision for a moment, before everything dimmed down enough for her to realise where she had come to be: Mihashira Tower. Or, to be precise, she was in the Slate room, hovering neatly over the source of her power. 

The first thing she noticed was this: the Gold King and the Ferryman stood before her, the former wearing a weary frown while the latter simply flashing a relieved smile. The second thing that came to her attention was how they remained tense on their place, gold aura emanating the King’s body like an ardent bonfire, its edge focusing onto… _herself_.

He was the one responsible of _taking her back_.

She wanted to scream at her _Lieutenant_ , to say that _he was making a grave mistake_ , but her return still made her wobbly. Instead, she fell to her knees, her voice raspy, and wailed, “ _Warum… warum tust du das_ 4?” _Why do you defy the Slate’s judgement?_   _Why save me?_

Daikaku’s steps had always been lighter than any of theirs, and it still held true even when old age caught up to him relentlessly. His shadow hovered over her trembling form, then he reached out to her. She half-thought that his hand would pass through, like how Miwa’s body fell on her wispy form as death knocked on his door. Instead, that hand sombrely fixed itself on her shoulder, making her eyes widen in surprise ( _it doesn’t slip, **I am real to him**_ ). The next thing she knew, the Gold King was already embracing her lithe frame—a gesture filled with longing and relief, of pent-up joy and remembrance, _of tenderness and warmth_.

“Because both of you still have other duties to attend to. If I have to pay for this chance with my life, then I shall gladly do so.” His warm hand eventually found itself combing through her platinum-coloured hair, and Claudia could do nothing more than _being overwhelmed by this revelation._

“It will be different, _better_ , this time around, Claudia. This, I promise you."

Claudia found herself believing those words, even when she knew that _there will be no happy ending for the three of them in their story_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation:  
> [1] _"Can you hear me? Please, answer me!"_  
>  [2] _"Don't leave me, my beloved sister..."_  
>  [3] _"Stop, stop—! I don't want to see more of this!"_ (Credit goes to Kaminokoe for their recommendation :D)  
>  [4] _"Why... why do you do this?"_


	4. what those six coins grant them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They met, they hugged, they _kissed_.
> 
> ( _Are you happy with this outcome, Tatara?_ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should have 1.5k-ish words but I went overboard. I'm sorry... but I have no regrets.
> 
> Kindly enjoy the final chapter of this fic.
> 
> Unbeta'ed until further notice, though I tried my best to fix grammatical errors wherever I notice.

She could never look at her silver doors the same way ever again.

Claudia Weismann realised all too well that her disposition as the Ferrywoman of the Slate was due to her brother’s inability to let her go, to the point that he bound her fate to his, pulling her away from the destiny which she was supposed to take. She should have been on her way crossing the river of death. Instead, she found herself stranded in the _Limbo,_ made a deal with the Slate instead of withering away due to insanity, ferried some other Kings to their nice afterlife, had gotten herself a partner to _tutor_ , had herself _erased_ because of _her brother’s brash sacrifice,_ and had her right to exist _restored_ only because her friend took the risk to save his friend, not having realised beforehand that _he was salvaging her as well._

She was still the Ferrywoman because Daikaku took the risk to save them. Now his time was cut short by half and there was nothing that she could do about it, saved for offering him gratitude as well as cursing his name for his reckless act. Yet whenever she stepped into that room again, seeing his grey patch of hair instead that black from a forgotten past, she willed herself to stop. Daikaku was trying to restore things to normal, and Claudia was not going to undermine his effort with useless distractions. At the end of the day, she would turn her back at the door to the Slate room, her heart still swelling with frustration. She would then summon her silver door, subtle weaves of gold intertwining with silver materials of her power reminding her again that the lieutenant will always stay with her—that she will always carry with her  _part of his life_ , and walk away mutely.

She told herself again and again that it had been his decision to interfere, to risk himself in their name, in hopes to lessen her guilt. It only ate at her conscience further.

* * *

"You're avoiding him."

Claudia's eyes narrowed at the Ferryman's accusation, despite his polite-but-frank tone. "Just like you're avoiding Suoh-san, you mean?"

Her counter made him flinch, his reaction being her intention the moment that Ferryman decided to pick the scab. Claudia let it slide, though; she knew better not to laugh over someone else's misfortune, not when she had similar problem to deal with.

Apparently, the man was not going to roll over and accept his defeat, however, and came back with his own reason, despite of her never asking, "you know why I cannot afford to be his Ferryman. My death brought too much hurt within him. When we part way... when I bring him to the _Edge_ , he will try to bring me with him. But _pawns_ like us," She never imagined such venom lacing his words, "we can never crossover until the Slate grant us such right."

Those brown eyes finally had the courage to look at her, reeking of frustration which Claudia knew all to well, for she had long acquainted with such feeling ever since she saw her Addie on the path of loneliness while she was unable to do anything about it. Dead people like them, after all, had no authority to interfere with the living.

But that never meant that there was nothing they could do about it.

Claudia sighed as if whatever she was about to afterwards meant accepting a burden which wasn't hers. "I'll make you a deal. I will ferry Suoh if you are willing to ferry Lieutenant."

If his only uncertainty was just about that, Tatara’s face would have lighted up in relief. The man, however, bit his lips in consideration, as if weighing the pros and cons of accepting said deal in the first place. Claudia waited for his response, part of her growing curious as to what could make such this man ponder on such perfect deal, really.

(It did not make sense to her, really. There was nothing more to consider; someone _must ferry both of them,_ and if either were incapable of doing so for certain someone, they will have to compromise).

Eventually, brown eyes closed in finality as the Ferryman finished considering all of his options, "I... agree to your deal, Claudia-san... Thank you."

She snorted because, really, the deal was designed to help both of them, was it not? "You need not thank me, not when I also gain something from this arrangement."

* * *

"I... I want to see him too, before he really crossover."

Claudia's eyes perked at his request, as the owner's smiled warmly. “I never said that you cannot."

She was used to the happy-go-lucky front that Tatara used to emulate, but she thought the smile that he gave her then was the happiest one she ever saw.

* * *

Among the list of things that Claudia anticipated, _Reishi Munakata's confession was not one of them._ Though, really, given the history of Jin Habari and Genji Kagutsu, _she should have expected this_.

(Red and Blue always shared an unbreakable bond, be it friendship, secret crush, or _downright possessive love._ )

The moment that shred of possessiveness overrode Reishi's sense of duty, she knew that the whispers at her back of her mind will try to override her control again. Usually, Claudia would hate the sensation of letting go; usually, she would relinquish her consciousness in fear to Them, for even if she belonged to the Slate now (and forever), she feared of the things that They will do in their name with her place. But this time was different. This time, Claudia yielded to their demands only because _Reishi Munakata was a_ _stupid_ _man_ _for causing_ _much_ _complication in_ _both_ _her job and Mikoto Suoh's afterlife_.

So, for the first time in moments when the Slate utilised her existence, she sat at the hind of her mind and watched how the Slate’s Ferrywoman overwhelmed both the Blue King and the clansman under his protection with a flick of finger. As the coup de race, she dropped the last attack on the dream owner—a stab through his heart—and watched as he lost his grasp on his own dreamscape. It showed in how Mikoto's form faded away, how the scenery surrounding them flickered into black as if to enunciate that _this had been her stage: the emptiness that ruled the lost and forgotten_.

(“ _Time to wake up, little Blue King.[Little protector](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4459706/chapters/10301265#bravesoldier1),_ ” They said, for everyone was kids they were when faced against the power that governed their supernatural abilities.) 

It was then that she decided to interfere, to convince the Slate to let her handle him. The effort of gaining possession of herself was a struggle too, not when _They_ insisted to bring this judgment by their own hands without interference, even from their own _servant_. But she promised to ferry the soul of Mikoto Suoh to crossover, so something must be done. Deals must be arranged; this, Reishi Munakata eventually understood, be it the price which he must pay and/or the benefit that he (and Mikoto) will gain from fixing this mess.

He was smiling forlornly when he accepted those heavy terms. Claudia felt bad that she would cost him another.

“Then the deal is set,” she murmured quietly, the silver beams that hang him in place lost its tension. Reishi fell on the empty ground, eyes still darting dazedly as if the whole encounter was only a part of dream easily forgotten. Claudia strode forward, her posture all business-like as she held his slackened form as she said, “to ensure that you are abiding by this deal, I will take your dreams as payment." 

Those violet eyes seemed to widen from her exclamation, as if she had just cheated her way through this whole deal. But her grip on his arms tightened, and Reishi found himself snapping up to her attention-seeking attempt. "From now on, you will not be able to dream, nor to have that comfort of meeting him even in it,” her silver eyes softened, “but maybe… it is for the best, isn’t it?"

She saw how his violet eyes flickered with emotion as the owner tried to find the words to fight back that argument. But Reishi’s form sagged again, for her words held some truth; he had too many dreams of Mikoto _dying_ —and this last one was the final nail to his self-restraint.

He couldn’t take them any more.

“…there is no other way, is it?”

Claudia sucked in a deep breath, the will of the Slate buzzing at the back of her mind reeked of _Blue—of their urge to judge him whole, right there_. Tendrils of silver quickly reappeared behind her, crisscrossing like net, hovering like unattached wings. Her right hand glowed in silver _and blue_., while her other hand gripped Reishi’s shoulder tightly as if to cage him there. The Blue King seemed to get the message as he did not make any sudden move, as though he was ready to accept—to lose.

“…no. There is none."

Her hand quickly shoved through his form, and  _Reishi screamed in agony_ at the same time. When she pulled her hand out, there was a stalk of gray primrose on her hand, the Blue King’s form growing so slack that she needed to provide support to him before he fell out completely. He was unresponsive in her embrace, but Claudia was sure that he was not out of it—not when he was still trembling under her grip. But eventually, Reishi’s back straightened despite his shakiness—a sign that he will not give up on this, that he is committed to what he signed on.

(How did she miss his pride so completely? How did she miss that stubbornness lurking under those violet eyes when his rival-enemy-love’s fate was at stake?)

The Ferrywoman let out a small sigh, the silvery wings behind her finally dissipating into streams of light and then reformed into one of her doors just behind him. “…go to him, Reishi,” she muttered on his ear, the door behind him opening the way to another emptiness as she gently pushed him away. She watched how he yielded to her push as if he was under a trance, his form vanishing beyond silvery lights of her door.

“Talk to him. This will be your last time to see him, until both of you are ready."

* * *

Another thing which was out of her expectation was _that Mikoto reciprocated the Blue King’s feelings._

(The Dresden Slate took consent seriously. She wouldn't be a Ferrywoman unless she consented to Their terms; her fault was that she never thought of making a counter-terms that should protect her interest as well. Anna Kushina cannot be a King if she did not consent to be one, even when the Slate granted her the power.

When Mikoto decided to hold on to Reishi's binding, to have his principle be defiled by another's, the Slate took his message as wanting to fight against his destiny to move on. But Mikoto would not consent until he had forgiven himself, which was an impossibility in itself. She had chosen the same road as he was leading on, after all, and now she was stuck with this eternal job, watching her brother fell apart.

At the end of the day, defying the Slate’s will would only make the former Red King suffer. 

The option to bark against the hand that granted her this job remained open, but Claudia wisely chose not to.)

She was so ready to bash some senses into that former Red King’s head, so ready to lecture him about how his acceptance will jeopardise everything she had fought for, when Tatara stepped into their little argument and tried to convince his King again. But Mikoto can never be budged when he already made his decision; this was, for the Ferryman, a known fact. If anything, Claudia thought that Tatara was conveying his goodbye rather than convincing the former Red King to let go.

When the last of Mikoto's as well as Reishi's forms dissipated out, each of them returning to their proper place instead of this Limbo, another thing that she had never expected happened. Tatara Totsuka was suddenly on his knees, his frame trembling as if he had been slapped times by his King's words. She could not help but approach him in worry, her hand quickly but softly landed on his shoulder. Before she could voice her concern, Claudia heard a soft utter that changed her perspective of this man altogether.

"In the end... I am never enough for him to be his reason,  _ne_ ?"

That was when the buzzes behind her psyche went deathly still, as though the Slate was shocked as well with this current development. She was silenced as well, her mind reeling over the fact that this boy had been in love with his King,  _but_ _damn_ _it, how long had his pining been going?! Why_ _wasn't_ _she aware of this?_

"Tatara..." She knelt by his side and pulled him her embrace, like a sister to her brother.  The man yield, his whimper being drowned out by her dress-shirt. Her hand soothingly combed through his honey-colored hair as she whispered comforting words that everything will work out. It only drew a choked laugh from that man; perhaps said man found the irony behind the words which he had spewed to other people.

Eventually, the sobbing stopped; Tatara pushed himself away from the Ferrywoman as he straightened his breathing. The smile that he flashed her made her heart ache, "...King cannot be saved, can he... Claudia-san?"

Brown eyes met silver, and Claudia held her breath as she answered, "yes, he cannot be saved."

(It was her first lie as the Ferrywoman.)

* * *

It was on the three-hundred-and-sixty-three day since the death of Mikoto Suoh when both of them crossed path again, Tatara’s hurt expression a solid reminder in her mind being safely stashed in her memories as another thing that she never expected in her after life.

(To be fair, HOMRA had been a clusterfuck of chaos from the very beginning, be it their King, their member, or their affiliation altogether. She should have expected better.)

"You lied."

She wasn't sure whether it was his bitter accusation or the blatant fact in his words that made her wince. Perhaps it was a bit of both plus the horrid guilt blossoming somewhere under her bosom, driving her to avoid those hurt brown eyes which sought answers on her own silver. "It was for your own good."

Brown eyes quickly turned sombre at the drop of a hat, as though he understood the rest of her unsaid words just by reading the flick of her head and her avoidance to look back at him. His gaze softened as Tatara stepped a few steps back to give her some space, and the once vassal of the second Red King let a weary sigh.

"That's where you don't understand, Claudia-san," he gently replied, any hurt lacing his words having been replaced with acceptance, "you are asking Munakata-san to die so that you can terminate his hold over him. But consider this: Mikoto will eventually find out that he is the reason behind the Blue King’s demise. When he does, he will be unable to forgive himself, and his ‘chaos’ will forever be tainted with Munakata’s ‘order’. Whatever you have planned hereafter will fall apart, unless…"

There was a glint of understanding burning within those orbs, as if Tatara Totsuka had her plan figured out even with her avoidance and silence. "…unless another power purged him thoroughly. Another power belonging to someone like  _us_ ."

She already had a hunch that  _this conversation will lead them somewhere unpleasant,_ so Claudia decided to speak up  _before it’s too late._ “I’ve been thinking of what the Gold King told me, that I’m here because I have to do something. And I think I know what I have to do with the borrowed time that he granted me."

Tatara still looked at her calmly, waiting for her words to stay and linger—to make sense of what she had been doing since the time they drifted away if only because of their duties. Yet even without hearing her words, those silver eyes bearing on him relentlessly with a steeled resolve told him  _everything_ about her intention: to protect,  _to fix her past mistake_ , to return things back into the way they were even when everything had been grounded to dust.

“I shall give up my power,” she declared, “and purge him from Munakata’s grasp. This is what I have decided."

She expected that face to twist into pity… or perhaps respect. The former vassal, however, did none of the mentioned, his light scorn turning into smile—a front which he upheld whenever he expected her answer. Those brown eyes shone forlornly as Tatara stepped forward toward the silver-haired woman, red aura—the one that the Slate granted when they accepted him as part of their force—glowing wistfully in nothingness, and hugged her so crushingly that she yelped in surprise. Claudia did splutter, but before she could even comment on his odd behaviour, he already chuckled by her side.

“ _Ano ne_ … the truth is, The Slate had given me… visions of this future, even before they turned me into a Ferryman,” he whispered, “they said that my death was not supposed to happen, that what the Colourless King did should have not come to pass earlier, that I was destined to prevent their tragedy in the first place."

There was a deep sigh mixed with choked sob, noticeable enough for Claudia to grow concerned enough to try pushing him away. But Tatara’s still embrace locked her in her place, and Claudia was left to cradle said man in her arms as she resorted to soothe him from whatever pain he was experiencing.

“King… Mikoto-san is a powerful King,” he mused, and for some reasons, she thought that his voice sounded drifting— _fading_ , “powerful enough to bind me before I could crossover to this Limbo. But I am no King, therefore no Ferryman nor woman has the authority to bail me out of here… so They made me an offer."

She had imagined him telling him the story behind his fate as the Ferryman, but never like this: the man enwrapped within her embrace with utter defeat tainting his voice. “What did you ask from them?” she asked, her grip on his shoulder tightened. The whole suspense put her on edge only because  _her instinct was screaming that something was wrong—_ that if the world had been turning unexpectedly around her because  _these people are HOMRA,_ then what entailed next will be  _something beyond her surmise._

“I want to be with him,” he whispered hoarsely, his face buried on her shoulder as he  _cried_ so openly, so vulnerably. Claudia let him,  _because she understood the pain of seeing them but never being able to interact, never to exist in their life._ “I want to be back by his side, to be his vassal again, to be with HOMRA."

_I know,_ and she did; he might not notice, but Claudia knew every yearning gaze he cast on the red-haired man when he was still alive, the longing and guilt in his eyes when they met again in this afterlife, every pent-up frustration of not being able to be in his life because  _Ferryman cannot play favourites._

"That’s why, Claudia-san, let me do this."

She gritted her teeth, because _what is a Ferryman without his power_? “You’ll be stranded here forever, Tatara."

He let out a broken laugh, “but this way, Mikoto can crossover safely."

Claudia closed her eyes, feeling his aura burning without hesitation even when his voice cracked with light sobbing. Or maybe this heartbreak was the representation of his resolve—that because of this inevitability, Tatara chose to move forward at his expense.

(What is a Ferryman without the Slate’s power? _Nothing_. Tatara was no King and she had no duty to ferry him to the Afterlife if he were to lose his power. In fact, the Slate would order her to _let him be in that Limbo forever,_ if they so wish it.)

“You won’t be able to reunite with them if you do this."

(It was her second lie, and she believed that the man knew that as well; they were lonely people disconnected from life and death, so surely a bond between them would grow as a result—a bond strong enough for her to throw herself to hell and bail him out should the need arise, and for him to be by her side in her hours of need.

Besides, ferrying someone who's not a King was less of an offence than ferrying one who was barred forever from afterlife.)  


“That’s why, Claudia-san…” his words were mere whispers as the solid form before her grew airy… as though he was losing substance. His aura was still there, flickering ardently within that man, but Claudia knew better that the deal was already in effect—that from the very moment he decided to explain his reason, _it was already too late_. _“_ …I entrust my happy ending to you."

It was then that she realised that _the whole conversation was his elegy of parting—_ just then when his solid form degraded into that of a warm shiny orb similar to the Colourless King’s soul. Claudia gently held the wisp, somewhere at the back of her throat burning erratically in mourning as she fought back the urge to _gasp and sob and scream—_  

—but she kept her voice in silence, her hands drawing a thread of light from that man’s soul then wrapped it around the primrose belonging to the Blue King, which she had instinctually summoned as soon as his form disintegrated. What was grey under her light finally glowed purple, and only then she could let her voice break.

“…Idiot."

The Limbo did not even echo; she was all alone, and this black expanse was too big for herself now that they’re short by one Ferryman.

* * *

They met, they hugged, they _kissed_.

( _Are you happy with this outcome, Tatara?_ )

She watched how they met again on that same spot where everything finally fell apart—how she thought that _Reishi should have done something more offending, like perhaps a kick on the groin._ She would have done that if her dead best friend suddenly reappeared _corporeally_.

Kings and their bonds, really.

Her eyes lingered on that string of violet primrose being held tightly in Mikoto’s grip. One would notice the splendor of that violet bloom in first glance yet miss the jagged black adoring the edges of those beautiful bouquet. For Reishi despite his unawareness, it was the sign of their covenant. For Mikoto, it was a sign of redemption—a chance to repair the things that had been broken because of his death and return. For Tatara, it was the best gift he could think of given their circumstances.

For Claudia, it was a sign that fate _can_  be bent to one’s will.

She just hoped that this arrangement will not bite them in the back—that both of them would obtain their happy ending… so that they can make _peace._

(—so that this sad story can come to an end.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had recently watched Sengoku Musou Anime and was intrigued by the philosophy behind Sanada Clan's emblem, from which the title of this fic is derived. In a sense, everyone in this story pays a price to have favour/help from the Ferrywoman/Slate as the governors of death. Kinda like bribery, I think.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is based on [【歌ってみた】 Kalafina / to the beginning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=go_gmwPzL7E).


End file.
